His Darkest Rapunzel
by Ms.Dawes
Summary: 'under control' and 'Miss Mystic Falls', Stefan never took Amber but he also never cured his blood addiction, unfortunately for Caroline someone has to fall prey to his blood lust.
1. Chapter 1

**His Darkest Rapunzel**

Summary: After 'under control' and 'Miss Mystic Falls', Stefan never took Amber but he also never cured his blood addiction, unfortunately for Caroline someone has to fall prey to his blood lust.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

A/N: i felt the whole Stefan going 'evil' bit wasn't explored enough and there aren't allot of stories about the bad Stefan out there so i felt the need to write some.

* * *

Time travels at the speed of stars, silent and almost not moving at all. At least that's what it seems like to Caroline, since ... 'he' brought her here.

He told her she was still in Virginia. Silence echoed whenever she tried to gauge the specifics of where exactly in Virginia. They didn't converse much, because he liked to mostly sit in the silence and observe her, from his chair, which he's kept at a certain distance from her.

At first when she woke up in the dark it was terror incarnate to see him obscure, in silhouette sitting far away in his large wooden chair arms firmly planted by his sides watching her calmly, quietly without any explanation, as if it were all completely normal.

She knew than, right at that moment that she wasn't at home in her own bed with the hello kitty covers, the bed she was in was all white. The mattress was hard and the entire ensemble was just oddly cold. It didn't give her the sense of warmth or the safety her own home and bed has always offered.

He had sat in his chair right in the door frame, blocking the entrance, as far as possible from her. She instantly recognised his profile as she often in the past watched him when she coveted his attention. That was a long time ago.

Caroline learnt an important lesson that night in the dark, not to underestimate the reality of a nightmare that had a disturbing potential to be very, very real. But all of that came after her unrequited conversation with her 'company' about her apparent displacement from home. It was obviously distressing for her, the change of scenery and company; he probably knew it but didn't make any attempt to clear the dark cloud of confusion. Caroline was used to straight talk; she didn't like obscurity or vagueness unless she were dating. He only smiled disconcertingly at first when she demanded an answer for the unwanted intrusion in her sleep. When he shifted in the chair giving the illusion of coming closer she almost jumped a mile in the air. The action was small, fairly harmless. Yet her nerves felt tight when he moved ever so slightly to answer her, more so because the action had intended to elicit fear in her.

The answer to her question was more like an illusion of an answer. He did not say anything about where she was or why she was here, why he was watching her in the dark, only that panic served no purpose, that he would make her as comfortable as possible and not to worry about anything else. He also wanted her to adhere to a few rules like not calling him by his name, and avoid sudden movement if she woke to him sitting over there watching her, not to try and escape because she wouldn't make it if she tried and last but not least to accept that this disturbance was her life ...for a while. He didn't give her a time limit; she was too indignant and cold inside to ask. The inner chill came from feeling his eyes on her bare neck and arms as if she were a plate of special barbeque ribs.

She ignored the silly rules he cited to her completely serious and confident in his tone and took a less advisory route, of complete outrage and indignation. _'Stefan? What the hell are you doing? Why am I here?' She even almost got out of bed. _

Even though her outrage was justified in the given setting, He had a somewhat violent reaction to it. Expression transforming from calm to something ...animal, snarling at her angrily, fangs peeked from under the curled upper lip and his eyes changed to a fiery blood red as he enunciated each word very clearly in a slightly more deadlier tone than before.

'_You're here ...because I don't want to hurt you, but for that you will have to listen to me and not fight any of this, trust me Caroline...or you'll regret it' _this time she heard him, sank back in bed and kept further questions to herself. He gave her a few minutes to digest the information, it did not compute or justify the absence of safety in her heart and mind, He had left her then, locked the door to the room that would be hers for 'some' time from the outside.

Even though the raw vampirism had almost stopped her heart, she still felt the need to ask him when he got up to leave if he had in fact changed her clothes, because she was wearing an oversized, sleeveless white shirt exposing the flesh of her arms and legs and not her own pyjamas which she found deeply unsettling. The nature of her stay was affecting her more than she had the courage to admit to him. He had only looked at her with a slightly amused smile then, his good humour suddenly restored. Not exactly the confidence inspiring denial she hoped to aspire to.

His answer when it came finally was small, hesitant, he sensed her extreme discomfort over it, as he appeared to have chosen his words carefully _'Yes' a long pause 'I did, but don't worry Caroline, I didn't touch you like that, that's not why you're here...understand that it was just...necessary, I really am sorry if it upsets you' What a guy._

He only paused long enough in the doorway before she completely dissolved into tears over what detail exactly even she wasn't sure. The click of the lock sealing her in darkness, The impromptu incarceration, inappropriate change of wardrobe, the lack of acceptable answers to questions she did not want to begin to ask or maybe the promise of pain from someone she has never considered dangerous at all.

Probably all of the above.

Yes, it was then, that first night she realized how naive she had been to always take nightmares and their potential to become real for granted.

* * *

Part 1

She is free to roam around sometimes during the day, because he comes only at nights. He started leaving her room unlocked after a few nights of her sobbing at his appearance on the chair in front of her, she tells him she doesn't think she can ever get used to the fright of waking up to the chilling darkness and him together, distant yet, hovering over her quietly, he accepts this response as completely natural. It chills more her from time to time that he's kept everything she would need in this small two bedroom tower, a well stocked fridge with everything she likes, a reading selection that she favours, even the shampoo and toothpaste she uses.

He must have watched her for days to know this much about her. She noticed the cynical, matter of fact change in his demeanour for the very first time during the Miss Mystic Falls competition when he asked her for a dance after they announced Elena as Miss Mystic Falls. She was feeling crappy because she knew they would choose her but decided to stick around and show she did not care about the unfairness, 'he' was there looking every bit detached and disarming, and oddly close in her personal space for being the appropriate one of all.

At one point while they danced she felt him take a deep intake of breath when he was close to her hair, neck...Yes, she thinks it's probably then he started watching her, taking note or her likes, dislikes the non-presence of her mother as the Sheriff and the little care her friends displayed for her general well being. Matt's indecisiveness on whether he wanted to bear the burden of dating a ditsy blonde like her.

All these factors played a larger role then she cared to admit to herself at the time.

'He' comes at nights and depending on his mood has lengthy conversations about his day with the others...Elena, Bonnie, Jeremy, Alaric and Damon. He doesn't mention Matt. It bothers her but she feels an invisible restraint asking him about Matt.

She tries to weasel her way out of the situation he has placed her in, tells him she can help him with his _problem_. He must have one if it's forced him to lock her up somewhere far away like this. She can get him help. The 'others' would understand she promises sincerely.

The disturbing grin that he gives her says it all. She thinks that she liked him better when he never really smiled much and only brooded in silence. It gives his personality a new dimension she has never bothered to be aware of, he's never showered this kind of psychologically damaging attention towards her before how could she guessed.

'_Really you think you can help me Caroline? ...Do you know anything about addictions? Blood addictions...'_

He says _'Blood'_ like it's a dirty, sinful little word, she feels her own face flush crimson with involuntary shame of it, and he stares her down so she averts her eyes and never talks about it again because his eyes stray to her neck too much and the heat of his obvious desire for her blood is overwhelmingly frightening to her.

He answers some of her questions sometimes, like the time she asked him how he came to own a place like this? How could he afford it? He answered her in a normal un-patronizing tone that he's lived for more than a century so he's got the money and resources to have a place like this. She asks childishly if Elena knows about any of these resources and he goes sour. She quickly shuts her mouth. When he's in a good mood he laughs at her cheek but whenever the topic of Elena rose between them he was all frowns and intensity. He looks at her with eyes mocking her unwanted disobedience but doesn't say anything. And yet she remains perfectly polite, when in reality she should tell him to stop being such a baby about it and man up to what he is doing to her.

To stop taking out his inability to deal with his blood addiction on her, this is not a vacation for her. Her mouth just can't find the right words to appease and dissuade him at the same time from continuing this mentally torturing routine he has set up for her with such care and gentleness. The soothing timbre of his voice when he speaks to her every time almost hurts her physically. She doesn't think she can take it much longer being his captive.

Problem was none of it was up to her really.

* * *

He starts talking about his problems with Elena when he finds Caroline semi conditioned to the routine of her waking up to him and not crying for once. His mood is dark, darker then the room and he avoids looking at her directly tonight when talking. The blood addiction is a cause of some unhappiness in their relationship; he thinks Elena is just not mature enough to understand what blood does to him. She feels he is changed as a person. He's been off of it so long that it obviously defined him a certain way, non-carnivores and overtly sensitive to humans, now that he's back on it, it's hard to explain how he needs the blood to be a part of him. He doesn't like that Elena judges him over it and as a result wants to take a break in their relationship until she's sure she can trust him.

She wanted to do something immature like say _'duh! You think?' _but she didn't they had that kind of relationship, for now he was the only one playing the jokes on her.

He's angry with Elena about the 'trust' bit, Damon is becoming the new dependable guy in Elena's life and it makes him jealous even if he doesn't admit it in front of Caroline, she feels the jealousy dripping off of him in waves and the way he grinds his teeth when tells her how ironic it is that Damon came to be the one lecturing him on the dangers of falling into the live blood habit, recently.

Caroline wanted to tell 'him' that at least Damon was more predictable. She wasn't sure what she felt worse about... the brother who kept her to himself to keep biting her because he couldn't resist the blood or the brother who locks her up for himself to keep from giving into the temptation of drinking her blood at all. She's not sure she can't draw a clear comparison.

Caroline listens to 'him' carefully, objectivity is hard for her at this point as he continues to complain and tells him she regrettably agrees mostly with Elena, that makes him even more snarly. She continues a bit to hurriedly and tells him to come clean with Elena about his _problem_ and let her 'help' him, Elena would take a chance on a dying alligator even for god's sake. _'Let's go to her together Stefan...I'll explain everything to Elena, I swear I really do understand' _she gives him her best sympathetic smile and crosses her fingers that he buys it.

'He' smiles his own smile full of genuine understanding, it isn't the sincerity of her smile that he doubts he tells her it's her subjectivity to the entire thing he can't bring himself to trust. She's too biased for his liking and can't convince him to let her go yet.

'_It's not time yet...And if you think Matt's out there looking for you then you're dreaming Caroline, no one is looking for you they all think you went to your fathers for a vacation after failing the Miss Mystic falls pageant...you're dad's on a cruise ship with his boyfriend no one ever thought to check it out, makes you think what kind of friends and family would you be going back to hmmm?' He reminds her with his words that he could easily be as cruel as comforting._

The intensity of her silence seems to lift his spirits from his own problems.

And then he leaves her again in a flood of angry tears. He tells he would like to comfort her but it meant physical touch and she might not be quite ready for that yet.

She agrees and thinks she told him in mid sobs to '_drop dead'_ and he laughed...obviously.

* * *

She understands now why she is here. He wants to build a resistance to the blood addiction. She is his resistance, his nicotine patch or something. This is why he can't let her go yet, this is how he ascertains that he's not a danger to everyone else around him, except for her.

It makes her shudder even in the warmth of a hot shower how well she understands his mind, the idea of her being his captive alone must give him a tremendous rush of complete power over her helplessness to do anything about it, it was the very thing vampires enjoyed isn't it? The very core of human fear, even though he hasn't laid a hand on her, the promise of an impending caress and bite is very real and he knew it.

He could hurt her if he wanted; he was just savouring the idea of it. It was probably what kept him from rampaging around the town and killing everyone else. He was trying to make everyone else comfortable with his controlled blood lust so that they would trust him.

So 'he' needed her to trust him first.

'_What happens when you can't resist the urge anymore...if you have a bad day?'_ she asks plaintively once, He's silent for a long time drawing patterns with his fingers on the arms of the chair fully attentive vocally to her, she thinks he shrugged nonchalantly once and told her it was not her concern yet. He made a promise and he intended to keep it.

She tells him she doesn't remember what he promised her, he never made any actual promises.

'_Exactly...'_ he says snapping at her, it's so quite suddenly that she thinks she might start giggling inappropriately. She doesn't, because it's got nothing to do with amusement. She thinks he might be trying to undo her mind before anything else.

Which was a large cause of concern to her obviously, her own mental health. For that reason she felt that she owed it to the already fragile sate of her mind to at least try and make a run for it when an opportunity arose.

An opportunity had risen.

'He' was taking Elena away for a small trip for their anniversary, which meant they were going to be gone for two maybe three days at the most. Three days in a row he wouldn't come over to check on her and she had the entire prison to herself to die trying to hatch an escape plan. She planned to take the place apart, find a trap door or a false ceiling or something to get out. Her enthusiasm was burgeoning the night he came to her before the trip; she tried very hard to cover it up.

Shouldn't have been hard considering it was always dark when he came and yet he not only noticed amusedly but also pointed it out to her.

'_Be good... ' _was all he said in a way of a warning before leaving_._

She only smiled to herself when he was gone.

* * *

She wasn't quite sure what she'd expected to find, a trap door leading to the outside world, a ceiling that popped opened when you knocked on it? Floor boards that came out with a little prying action?

The walls and floors were stone mostly; it was old and too hard for any kind of prying, the ceiling was way too strong for her to even try and break through out of, nothing in the entire place had sharp edges to use as a digging or carving tool. All she had to say for her naivety was that she's watched too many believable crime thrillers and now knew first hand not to be this gullible ever again.

Well, she might never get a chance, the place was a mess, and she had taken the bed apart thrown the mattress aside, everything else he had brought for her, she'd strewn around just for the heck of it, in defiance. But then, last night in her euphoria over being granted an opportunity to escape she spared only a millisecond of thought over what her fate might come to in case she didn't make it and the impression of general freedom only lasted a few hours until she realized the prison 'he' brought her to was virtually indestructible.

She hated now to think of what would happen if he got back and she was still here with the mess she's created. Her confidence faltered even lower when the sun started going down, already a day was almost gone. The dying rays of sunlight through the only window in the prison caught 'his' chair in her room and gave off a glint of hope.

She bashed the damn chair against the small window, apparently it was necro-tempered and bullet proof 'he' told her once, and she believed 'him' now since she did not manage to make a single dent the first ten times that she violently beat his chair against it.

The chair was heavy for her to lift and strong like the rest of the prison , she focused all her energy and rage towards 'him' on the window and 'his' chair, it didn't break easy but the window started developing very small cracks that were slowly and at the expense of her diminishing energy, intensifying.

She had to rest in between, have a drink of water, use the bathroom and catch her raging breath once in a while.

They made it look so easy in the movies, she swore if she ever got out she would never watch another ridiculous crime thriller that assured you escape was always an option for the protagonist and lulled you into a false sense of security. She just wouldn't.

She sleeps through rest of the night emotional and physical energy completely spent.

* * *

The cracks have gotten bigger, and she's broken his chair in half, her hands are covered with splinters from the wood breaking. She's employed the help of the chair legs now to finish the job even as her entire form is trembling in pain.

She knows she can get there if she gives the window another fifty blows at a constant momentum, unsure of how much time she had to herself there wasn't much sense in stopping for a break today so she sobbed with determination to not stop until the window had damn near shattered.

The elation at the window breaking into a hundred different pieces lasted for only a few seconds until she eagerly stuck her head out in the open air and observed her surroundings. Her prison was encased in dense foliage, and when she looked down it occurred to her that her captor has been around for over a century and carefully planned her captivity to his convenience only and not hers.

The ground was nowhere in sight to her, now she understood why he referred to her prison as 'the tower' because she was on something resembling a mountain she could probably not climb down without the danger of free falling and landing splat god knew how many feet below. There was too much foliage covering the entire prison to see clearly what lay beneath the mountain.

She guessed he didn't need a bunch of stairs to get here. Now she knew how Rapunzel must have felt, the only word suiting her sentiments right now was _'shit'_.

* * *

Giving up was never a phrase Caroline let herself get familiar with, even if the odds were clearly stacked against her, she would still give the 'escape' a go.

There were three sets of white sheets Caroline had knotted together firmly to act like a rope in her first mountain climbing lesson. She tied one end to the legs of her bed which she had incidentally managed to drag all the way to the window. All that was left to do was to tie the other end around her waist and try to get a firm gripping on something while she got herself out of the window.

She catches her hand against a jagged edge of the window she wasn't able to scrape away, the glass was thick and the cut she gets is deep, she ignores it because the adrenaline rush is keeping her going for now.

Even with the list of doubts running through her mind like what if her rope was too small, how would she find her way home, what if it was too dark before she could get all the way down, what she had ruled out to consider was that even in the movies the possibility of the escapee being captured before an actual escape was pretty near real because as she sat at the window and prepared to jump out of it, a still figure in the doorway of her bedroom distracted her.

'_So, how's it going?...' _She has no idea of how long 'he's' been standing there watching her, she feels too ashamed to ask.

'_You're back early?' _she asks him hoping this was an actual nightmare and not real.

'_There was a family emergency, Jeremy developed appendicitis and Elena wanted to go back home and look after him...plus there was a sensor on your window which activated in case of a disturbance' _

_Ah, so _no such luck then.

She's so startled because of 'his' neutral tone and calm demeanour, leaning against the doorframe watching her with an avid interest that she loses her footing and falls...outside.

Before she can go too free falling he's quick to catch her and make shift rope holds her weight; he pulls her up using the sheets ignoring any of her small protests, the sheets tear at constant friction with the jagged edges of the window. The emotional pain of the moment as he drags her form back inside is very real. Her face is wet with tears and she feels inconsolable anger at him for doing this to her.

She only managed to plead with him uselessly as he drags her using both her arms back to her room and throws her on the cold floor hard, before she can move he slams the door shut and locks it, leaving her to pound at the door with her fists, half sobbing, mostly screaming obscenities at him to let her out.

'Stefan please, don't do this to me! ...Don't!'

He was still there on the other side of the door, she can feel him but he never answers her.

Caroline loses consciousness after another ten minutes of kicking at the locked door, the wound on her hand has lost her considerable amount of blood and possibly the reason she fades into sudden blackness.

The last thing she hears before she passes out is something she doesn't expect herself to say _'I'm sorry...please don't let me die'_

Possibly there was some movement behind the door.

* * *

A/N: to be continued, only one more possibly small chapter, this is a short story.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

It occurs to her while she's sleeping for some strange reason that she doesn't know where the door to the tower is, how was 'he' getting in and out? Even more strange, that all this never occurred to her while she was rushing around trying to find a way to get out of her prison.

She wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't a door at all. It was just the kind of madness inducing thing she expected from him. The night was deep in it's own gloom when she woke again. The first thing she noticed was the painful throbbing in her hand, which woke her, she noticed the very clean bandage wrapped around it and the tweezers by her bed, any splinters from her fingers were gone.

What she noticed the most was the bed, it felt a bit heavier than usual as if someone else was there with her, when her eyes finally adjusted to the dark she realised why. 'He' was sitting on her bed silently not too close to her but just not far enough for her. She might have tried to scream but her throat was too hoarse to manage the feat.

He's never really been this close to her before tonight it was bound to scare the living hell out of her.

Caroline tries to remind him of it using rudimentary hand signals. He reassures her he's well aware of how close he is. _'You broke my chair...' _He says simply, as a way of justifying his close physical proximity to her, how very silly of her to think otherwise.

She feels too ashamed and numb with pain to apologize to him for the chair because he told her at an earlier point about the chair being an antique and she suddenly notices her clothes are different again, she's wearing an oversized dark coloured shirt and it smells curiously like him with a few select buttons undone, there isn't much else underneath.

Perfumes and smoke from the outside world. She wants to be sick, or tell him that she feels sick but she doubted it'll bother him. The bed was obviously in one piece again and everything was back in its place.

He probably knew she would attempt at least one escape which would mentally and physically kick her out of her depth.

He seems so unconcerned about the whole incident that Caroline tries to imagine it was a dream. But it wasn't because he was sitting too close for comfort and studying her intently, that and her hand hurt like a bitch.

'_Got it out of your system?...'_ She isn't sure what he's referring to? The shrieking fit after he dragged her to her room or the pent up anger and frustration she let out on his chair and the rest of the place or just the idea of escape, whether it was still an option.

She doesn't really have much to say for herself, thankfully he doesn't push it.

Looks pretty clear to her that escape was not much of an option worth considering right at this point of time if she wanted to get out of this alive. So she let the tightening of her jaw do all the talking; she has too much pride to admit stupidity in the first degree and besides this was all his fault anyway what did he expect her to do, sit and wait for him to drain her dry on one of his bad days?

Probably did.

'_Was there any anniversary trip or did you just make it up?...' _She wouldn't put it past him at this point he was into mind games after all.

He shakes his head at her tartness, like she's a silly girl full of naive assumptions about him, she had more than just assumptions about him and his malevolence, the way he viciously dragged her into darkness of her room from the broken window still echoed silent brutal images in her mind somewhere.

'_Why, are you jealous?' _

She is no such thing, just before she can answer she feels him slide slightly closer with uncontained anticipation, the fabric barely rustled at this movement. Anger was still in her simmering, bursting to be let out in a full display of fieriness, even as she tried to suppress the urge to claw at him, it's not going to do him any damage but she might end up with a broken arm or worse.

'_No not jealous, just wondering whether Elena knows what a great stand up vampire boyfriend she has, does she know where you go to at nights?' _

He enjoyed some lip from her from time to time, because her insult which is meant as an insult doesn't faze him at all. Caroline tried to move away just a bit, but the headboard was already digging into her back, and there wasn't much room to go anywhere else, she feels dizzy with the blood loss.

Maybe he feels sorry for because he ignored her serious insult and looked away from her probing gaze 'There really was a anniversary trip, Elena and me are good together these days...she's trusting me again' a small pause _' But i know you Caroline, i knew you would try to run...it was in your eyes the night i left'_

She chooses then not to express how she felt Elena about trusting him at all or about him reading her and instead asked him whether he was disappointed with her attempt because he didn't seem a whole lot of upset over it.

His deliberately slow sigh is a palpable sign of something more than usual on his mind, something disturbing she did not think she would like to be privy to any time soon _'Oh, I'm all kinds of upset Caroline, you've been lying here and bleeding all over the place for the last 40 minutes while I cleaned up the mess you made, pulled out twenty odd splinters from your fingers, i even managed to bandage your wound without tasting any of the...'_

Oh shit the blood, her clothes.

'_It was hard for me...to touch you..._' he confides in her softly even though she is hardly listening to him.

She feels cold suddenly, her legs feel a bit like the stone her prison is made of and her hand subconsciously tugged at the covers trying to cover herself more, he senses the sudden change her mood for the worse and is sympathetic. _'You were just covered in your blood Caroline, I had to ...clean you up, don't get upset'_

She wants to tell him that he can't actually be telling her how to feel but is distracted by the number of times he's used the 'B' word in his sentences.

All this talk of blood couldn't be good for either of them, she thought about snapping him out of it by giving him a slap but then considered the adverse side effects his anger might have on her. Probably not the best idea.

Maybe she should tell him to go home and sleep it off. That might even get a smile out of him.

Just as she opens her mouth to say it, he tells her there's something they need to 'talk' about

Something important, with sling shot emphasis on the 'important'.

It was just a vibe, a horrible eerie, bugs crawling on her bed kind of vibe that something about him sitting on her bed so full of ease wasn't just to do with the damn chair of his. When he spoke again she wished he didn't, because their conversation was going into a much more serious territory then she knew how to handle.

And he knew it _'It's ok...don't be alarmed...' _

She starts to argue because he's taking far too much time but figured there isn't much of a point in fighting him, she's about to faint again anyhow and since he noticed she was about as comfortable as she was going to get rigidly pressed against the headboard of the bed, he continued trying to ease her into it _'You know how when i decided to go to that trip with Elena it probably occurred to you that my going away for a while is a opportunity to break out of here...'_

Caroline hated to admit it, but she could almost read his mind right now, because he had faith in her to do try and escape she shouldn't automatically rule out that it was a good will gesture on his part to just let her go unpunished or just laugh at her indiscretions to rules he clearly cited to her for a reason in the beginning. This was him gearing up to punish her. It was just like him to try and make it seem as simple as washing a wound with iodine solution when he meant to cut her up further and then expect her to be completely calm about it. Maybe she should have taken that fall out of the window, who knows she might have survived enough to make it.

Too late for that.

He tries to distract her with patterns he keeps making on the bed and the random talk about how opportunities should be treated as a sign of fate. And how proud he is of her attempt of taking that to the max but he already knew she wouldn't be able to escape the tower.

It wasn't possible. What a smug son of b*tch he was. 'It made me realise something when you were bleeding to death that i have an opportunity to take the help you offered me before...do you remember telling me you wanted to help me?'

She remains silent unsure of where he's taking this and he treats her silence as an affirmation to his cause. It's not like she could tell him otherwise. She only tells him she doesn't understand. He nodded aware of the cryptic nature of his request and asked her to be patient a while longer.

'I think we can help each other...'

'You mean, you're ready to let me go...?' Well that was the only kind of logical help she remembered extending to him, to let her go home so she can find him someone who's willing to help him with his issues, like a one of a kind exclusive vampire shrink or something similar. He paused a bit longer than necessary and her heart sank lower with more than just a flat kind of disappointment, there was a renewed fear in her of where this is going,

She's too scared to look at him when he tells her 'No, not yet...but soon'

'But then...I don't understand...' She stuttered uncomprehending and didn't realise but while she was busy indulging in her own web of seminal fear his hand had come to a rest on her bandaged one, She tried to pull away as reflex but his hold was firm, the pain was unbearable suddenly.

'You will Caroline, don't worry...'

She is already protesting as he removes the bandage with a slightly vicious edge to it and displays the wound she sustained trying to escape like a trophy. It was ugly and still very much open, the blood had coagulated a little but the pain shooting up her arm because of it told her something was wrong with it.

'As we're talking your wound is becoming infected'

Caroline followed his eyes over her wound, the sinking feeling in her stomach growing fonder with the first bouts of regret over the escape attempt. She really should have tried to be more practical about it. 'He' tells her the wound on her hand needs proper disinfectant, stitches, and she needs a tetanus shot but how none of these things he feels there is a need for because he can take care of the wound himself easily... if she agrees to not disagree to something he needs from her in return.

She wants to whoop with laughter or ask him if he's insane but neither seemed like an acceptably safe option so she remains neutral for a while longer watching her hand rest on his like a pained sentence. There's a wild silence full of unsaid promises and of violent lust brewing in the room around her, creeping over her like the ray of cold moonlight that illuminates nothing she wants to see, but she fears it's not her choice to make and he isn't here to exactly make it any easier for her_._

'_Don't worry...'_

_His smile is only reassuringly while she shivers regretfully._

_

* * *

_

The stars might be bright with disapproval of her unwillingness to get out of bed but it hasn't deterred her from lying comatose for the last 24 hours, her body aches with new unseen bruises, maybe there just in her mind, nevertheless they block any movement she thinks she should make to get the glass of water by her bed.

Emptiness in the tower echoed silent gentle waves of nothing. He wasn't here tonight, because there was always a heavy undead energy that weighed her down physically whenever he arrived, she was used to the feel of his presence, it stayed with her till she usually fell asleep. Tonight she was alone and sleep bothered her because of nightmares she knew would ensue, she tipped the glass of water and let it shatter into pieces just to be sure she was alone.

The hot shower felt good, it massaged the aching muscles of her arms and back, the bite on her neck felt strangely unfeeling. She touched it once, just to remind herself of how it came to be. Yes, it was his fang marks on her neck that had spread a lovely purple orange bruise around most of her neck.

She was not the revelling in defeats and pain kind of girl but tonight was special, tonight she realized if she died here no one would ever know what happened to her, and that was something she couldn't take lying down.

He had offered her his blood in exchange for a taste of hers. Simple, but not quite, It's not that he asked her for it outright, in fact when he offered her his blood his eyes and body language gave away nothing of his true intentions for her. She didn't immediately accept his offer because she did not trust his closeness to her for a minute, and because he became silent every time she tried to gauge what it was he wanted from her in return.

The little or no clothing she wore spoke volumes to her and frankly distracted her from the pain in her hand. He coaxed her gently to 'trust him', he needn't come close but she could take his wrist and drink at a distance she desired if the whole setting bothered her too much.

Somehow she agreed, partly because she did not want to know what would happen if she didn't accept his blood and partly because she wanted to try and appease the monster in him by trying to be comfortable with a situation that was wildly frightening and uncomfortable for her in the first place and because some small part of her was sorry for trying to escape, and not making it out.

She only realized after she had latched onto his wrist which he tore open with his own teeth, that he was distracting her from his actual purpose for her, at first there were the first soft caresses on her neck while the pain of her infected wound slowly vanished, her hair was being gently tucked behind her ear, and then she felt him closer than she agreed to let him be, he was sliding her down on her pillow so easily that she knew panic was just around the corner. The small sounds of struggle from her were inevitable, he knew it, this is why when he slammed her down and ...bit her while she screamed muffled curses into his hand between her teeth she almost believed it was the end. She couldn't ask and he didn't stop to tell her otherwise.

It was quick, easy and brutal.

The violent shadows her wild struggle under the sheets and his brazen viciousness as a vampire made on the opposite wall gave her a fright so powerful she doesn't think she can get over it if she ever tried. Her sobs were like screams after he came back to himself and stopped, she thinks she wouldn't have stopped crying if he hadn't held her arms firmly and told her to 'calm down' or he won't let go. That made her immediately water down the sobs to inaudible ones, until she fell asleep trying to fight her way out of his arms.

The shower does very little to erase any of these memories instead she feels tingly with the images of his crimson lips and fangs covered with her blood immortalized in her mind and haunt her in complete silence like a gnawing pain. The water washes away the dried blood on her and on the shirt of his ...she still has it on. With a start, she rips the shirt off and flings it away, it makes a wet unyielding thud in the darkness somewhere and she screams and screams until the water runs cold and she knows she has to come out.

Thankfully 'He' doesn't come in for a few nights after the 'night'. She doesn't think she can stand the sight of him if he decided to appear. His shirt hangs drying in the bathroom next to the shower, the wet mess it made in her room bothered her too much.

She fights with his image in her mind, screams and yells at the empty space from time to time, it's an unstable and manic excuse for a confrontation with her courteously callous attacker but the venting for hours at a day deflate her anger marginally and exhaust all of her energy till she needs to eat or rest.

It's then that the denial and rationalizing sets in slowly angering her.

She tells herself at least she is still alive and his blood did heal her otherwise infected form. And if he took a taste in return without any sort of consent from her...so what, it was just a taste, the brutal invasion of space only lasted for a few minutes at the most.

Only for a few minutes...

Caroline touched his shirt that she neatly folded at one point and wondered out loud whether 'he' would come back.

* * *

A/N: I decided to make it slightly longer so another chapter will be coming up and im not sure im happy with this chapter might re-write. Thankyou all for the reviews in the mean time!

R


	3. Chapter 3

_After two weeks he's back, on the chair at a calculated distance in the doorway of her bedroom. Her waking up seems to have startled him for the first time because he moves ever so slightly to cover it up. She wanted to smile but her expressions are glued together, because some part of her is relieved to see him come back and another part of her loathes herself ...and him for the feeling of relief. _

'_New chair?...' _

_He smiles sardonically caressing the arm of the chair._

_Seemed like the only semi neutral question she could throw at him before getting down to berating him for being a crafty son of bitch he was by giving her ample time to cool down and blame herself for the pain he caused her. Problem was when she opened her mouth nothing came out, it seemed like all the anger and pain that has been spewing out of her for days had drained her and softened her up, tired her out and He'd counted on this. _

_He knew exactly what he was doing, the complete ease he displayed lounging on the chair bristled her nerves far more than she could put into words at the moment. He sensed it somewhat and leaned forward._

'_Yes, you can break this one any time... it's not a family heirloom' The effortlessness with which his tone returned to absolutely normal always bothered her but it was something she had expected from him. So she couldn't really complain about it._

'_How are you ?...' how very proper of him to ask._

'_Peachy, How's the rest of the town and my friends still alive?...' It hurt to know that her half baked theory of him needing her locked away to keep from tearing through the rest of the town was just exactly half baked and involved some calculated amount of violence towards her, blood violence was an inevitable part of the equation. _

_She's angry... he knows this and is not the least bit disturbed, it's something he probably expected, she hates that she's a predictable excuse of a prisoner to him and how he's so calm about all of it. He only stares back with mutual intensity in response. _

_Words were tumbling out of her before she could caution herself 'Why didn't you compel me that night, you could have made it easier on me but you didn't...' Yes this was the only legitimate fight she could have with him over his last choice of actions with her._

_He was silent for such a long time; she almost thought he hadn't heard her. _

'_You haven't heard a word I've said before ...my intention is not to mind rape you Caroline...that's not why you're here.' Before becoming trapped here, she has always prided herself on the use of anger as a bullying tactic, suppressing her true nature was easier to do then she thought possible. Was she adapting to the routine he's set up for her? Maybe._

'_Really?, it felt like rape...And don't say you're sorry about it because you didn't sound the sorriest that night' She seethed in the dark and he agreed that he hadn't sounded sorry at all while he was latched onto her throat, taming her violently jerking form to his own liking. No he wasn't sorry at all and both of them knew it. The silence continued for a while longer till she told him he was a 'sick, twisted son of a bitch' and he made no move to correct her, instead her lids started getting heavier and she was overcome by a powerful urge to go to sleep._

_It's strange how things have a way getting back to normal after a latent tragedy or trauma that rips apart any sense of normality in the first place. Did her parents and friends grieve over her mysterious disappearance? Did the tragic reality of her permanent disappearance stop them from living their lives for the first few days and then implode back to normal after the dull monotone of her not coming back got too much?_

_Probably._

_The trauma of 'him' crushing sharp pointiness into her throat lasted for two weeks in total, after which they fell into the normal pattern of him sharing details of the outside world and her caustic reaction to all things that reminded her of her imprisoned existence. The incident of her trying to runaway and him punishing her for the infraction seemed like a bad shameful dream she wasn't sure whether making a mention of was a good idea or not, because he seemed completely over it._

_Some days are darker than most because she breaks down and leans on him of all people for human contact ...and loathes herself deeply for it. He collects these all these dark moments like a scientist with a test tube when her mind shows the slightest hints of unravelling, other times she imagines asking him to end it for her and find someone else, someone stronger. This she never mentions to him for fear he might actually go through with it. She's unsure of which part bothers her the most, the finality of him killing her? Or the guilt of him finding a replacement for her._

Both weigh equally heavy on her mind as _she is one night rummaging through the nightclothes she has, and is struck by a strange familiarity at the scent of them all, the shampoo and shower gel are familiar, not brands she uses but very familiar._

_It's not until she's almost fallen asleep that she realises why the scent of her nightclothes and some of her toiletries that have changed, are so familiar, they were the ones Elena used. _

_Caroline almost doesn't make it in time to the bathroom to throw up. A Toilet bowl is an unlikely place to have a painfully obvious epiphany but it finally occurs to her that he sees her as the closest thing next to having Elena trapped in this tower. The Darkness, the different clothes and shampoo all make sense._

_The eeriness she feels from the revelation is so cold and deeply afflicting that she hardly notices him suddenly audience to her appalling lack of cheerleader grace, he was holding her in a bear hug trying to soothe her shaking form, only murmuring soft words of comfort and agreement when she begs him to get help for himself because he was a completely psychotic bastard who needed immediate staking. _

_Later, when she is more subdued and he is ready for her flinging questions at him they are in there normal positions, her under half the covers feeling crazier than usual and him in the damn chair looking resolutely satisfied with the bite sized chink in her mental armour._

'_You have to tell me what you want from me Stefan?, no more bullshit!'_

_Yes she actually said that, the look that comes across her kidnapper is one of quiet endearment; she hates the silent contemplation in his eyes and her desperation for a rational answer, because this was all too damn irrational for her. _

_A purse of smug lips later he answered 'I told you what I want, you just haven't been listening, you're fear is the one that's costing you you're precious freedom not my physical inference' There was a glass in one of his hands filled with something equally opaque as his answer, he took a leisurely sip of it and she flared her nostrils in silent frustration._

'_I don't understand your moody dialogue Stefan, stop confusing me and talk to me in normal English ok? Because I've put up with enough of your psychotic shit! No more!'_

_She expects the folding of her arms to her chest a clear and firm representation of her resolve, when the glass he's holding explodes against her headboard missing her by less than a inch, her spine melts drastically and her nerves turn to a watery mess , she almost quivers with the bloody fear again. _

'_Stop-using-my-name, I've told you before ...' He's close to her now, hunching like a wolf ready to pounce. The dark red glow in his eyes make her clutch the bed sheets harder, her voice slightly paler than before... she clumsily apologizes for herself as he glares at her in his volatile, monstrous glory. _

_'I'm sorry i just want to know what you're thinking?...it's only fair'_

_Caroline waits for an answer patiently with averted eyes but the moment of truth has come and gone, she's ruffled him more than he can stand of her tonight and it has spurred an early leave. She realises this when she unknowingly falls asleep and wakes up in the morning attributing their angry exchange to a normal nightmare of hers._

_The subtle disappearances at night from the chair seem uncharacteristic at first but when he doesn't turn up for three days in a row, deep down inside Caroline feels she might have touched a stray nerve in him. A nerve of conscience?, Sympathy? , Guilt? She wasn't sure but her anger seemed to have spurred him to think about his actions. _

_It gives her hope that he might come to his senses sooner rather than later...she really hoped so for her own sake. _

_The Vampire_

Before you slip into unconsciousness  
I'd like to have another kiss  
Another flashing chance at bliss  
Another kiss, another kiss

The days are bright and filled with pain  
Enclose me in your gentle rain  
The time you ran was too insane  
We'll meet again, we'll meet again

_Crystal Ship –The doors_

_His mood was sinister again as the darkness settled like a cover deep in the woods._

_At first he only came to see her after a hunt, a time when he gets a few hours of privacy from the rest of 'them' to immerse himself in his true nature, indulge in his fantasy to a certain extent and then come back to real life where he has Elena who is meant to be the love of his very unnatural existence. And his brother who he pretends to keep on a leash but secretly the truth was Damon was getting less and less impulsive and the role of unpredictability was at his own exploitation lately. And he managed that as discretely as possible. He always was the better liar._

_The challenged persona he managed to hide within was lately feeling like the real him more than the subdued version of him on display most of the time Elena and her friends knew, A smile melted the corners of his mouth. _

_Somewhere at the back of his mind he knew the different levels of wrong his addiction was taking him to, but it was as if he found a way to dull the reality of it all. He managed to spare a wry smile here and there at his gathering of human friends as they carried on having faith in him to always do right by them. _

_Still, Keeping Caroline in the tower was unprecedented on his part. _

_He wasn't sure at what point between Elena's nagging and his brothers bothersome monitoring he decided to imprison Caroline Forbes in his tower, which he'd closed down for all intents and purposes a very long time ago. He'd been thinking of the tower and it's use for a while after his blood addiction had started making him more than just edgy. The night of the Miss Mystic falls when Elena is chosen, he noticed the inherent crumble of Caroline's face but also the control which was tight across her features as her eyes blurred for a few minutes and cleared up in staunch approval of her friend receiving an accolade very clearly coveted by her._

_The idea clicked into inevitability when he saw her leaving after the Miss Mystic Falls forlorn and resigned to the worlds injustice against her, he was in the parking lot getting air, the sheer amount of humans and their veins rustling against the various fabrics bothered him more than he let on to Elena. They all looked like sloshing bottles of liquid plasma to him, Damon was watching him squirm with the kind of morbid satisfaction which only made him want to get the hell out of their as quickly as possible._

'_She' had been a vision under the dark starry sky in her sea green gown and delicate accessories and he was a mess of sordid addiction, trying to temporarily exhale the invisible strain inside that made him uncontrollably hungry . If she had walked pass him without noticing him he might have let her go, but she stopped and asked him a question with sad eyes begging some form of acceptance._

'_Am i real Stefan? Can you see me?'_

_He stopped the mad pacing and told her he was betting she wasn't just a beautiful hallucination so she must be pretty damn near real. _

_The smile he got was lopsided and humourless 'Oh, funny i felt invisible...just checking' He didn't press and she didn't elaborate instead, she left him bewildered mentally with a violent struggle of blasé immorality and happenstance. The hunger had come down a few notches as he thought of her intensely lonely existence , the availability in his empty tower and his problem with blood. _

_Yes, he thinks it was then he started plotting her imprisonment._

_A/N: Hello readers, my apologies for taking sooooooooooooooo long to update, it's been a long busy year, but am back and am going to finish this fic. Thankyou for the support, keep reading._

_Rela _


	4. Chapter 4

He doesn't sit in the chair these days, something which he knows probably scares her. The chair was like a safe proxy between them, and without it, they were somehow more intimate than captor and captive. It was a dangerous kind of intimacy, the sort that induces a slow burning hunger for the blood addiction he was striving so hard to take control of. And eternal damnation help him, his experiment wasn't a complete failure... he's achieved some semblance of control over his blood lust in the last few months. It wasn't a fool proof degree of control, including a life time guarantee of caution and control in blood related matters, but it was a start.

He was getting better.

For the first time in decades he felt lighter, humour seemed to flow out of him more easily than before, he spent even less time feeling sorry for himself. Maybe the acceptance that he was really a closeted monster helped? He wasn't sure what it was, maybe 'she' did? Yes, she was quite intuitive as a human being, the more time he spent talking to her made him realize he's been missing out on good company.

The shallow and self absorbed shell her friends always complained about wasn't that hard to crack.

It was his firm belief that real fear always brought out the person underneath. She was holding up remarkably well under the circumstances. The mental atrophy was a lot less than he expected...others before her haven't lasted as long. But then those were his ripper days, when humans and their flesh was all but white noise to him now he appreciated the warmth and perfection of the human condition, it was as close of a emotional connection anyone could have with their food, the years of abstinence did him some good after all. He wasn't the same rude bastard he'd been all those years ago. Because the more refined version of him would refer to 'food' as his life force.

Caroline's attempted escape had been a welcome distraction from Elena's constant prying eyes and his brothers equally prying questions about his 'problem'. Their unsaid accusations were only adding to his paranoia, he found himself guilt ridden in their company, His answers came across as insults and snaps that the neutered Stefan would never repeat. But he was also careful in their company to never hint at the fact that his 'problem' was still a problem and it was becoming an important part of him like a personality trait he feared he could never get rid of.

And yet the guilt didn't extend beyond a certain point for him to rise out of his angry stupor and free the golden haired cheerleader. Erase her memories and allow her back into normality. The mere thought of her leaving gave him a panic attack so intense that he worried he might be descending into uncharted insanity beyond the point of return.

He had made his own hell and now he had to burn in it.

* * *

There was a scar on her right shoulder which he found fascinating, because to his vampire eyes it looked a half moon carved into an otherwise flawless skin...He held off on his curiosity until she no longer gasped seeing him in dark sitting well away from her trembling form and she might not take it so well that he's seen more of her than she knew or cared to show him.

She thinks he gets off on control, in particular control of her. But it's not her he wished to control, it was his own urges he was trying hard to take control of, the reigns of his addiction were not in his care for now they lay in the in hands of his darker self. His inner demon which controlled his aggression and hunger, the one which would have surely drank Caroline Forbes dry the night of the Miss Mystic fall's pageant unless he'd stolen her from her home and confined her to his safety.

He could imagine a sarcastic snort from his dark rapunzel at his skewed definition of 'safety'. Rationality wasn't always a pleasant subjective tool to have; especially for morally imbalanced vampires... it could lead to all kinds of insanity and sin.

From time to time she pleads her freedom as a fragile bird fighting her cage to be free and the ugly part of him laughs at her futile attempts at convincing him to release her, sometimes he is reassuringly good with the lies and sometimes...well, sometimes he could be a really mean bastard and slam outright ridicule at her expectations of release with promises of unnecessary violence.

That ladies and gentlemen, is the newly stirred and shaken version of the Ripper emerging.

* * *

He Felt like a contradiction during the day time trying to hideaway in the halls of mystic falls high, even though by night he was the ultimate predator full of intelligence and stealth, but in the startling sunlight he was exposed like a criminal ready to be caught by the straying human eye...one such being Matt Donovan.

The jock was more than a slightly sullen mess since ...Caroline's unfortunate disappearance. Dark circles spoke volumes of his indifference to sleep. It really was a tragic coincidence, First his sister Vicki, and now his girlfriend, who he must have been infatuated to some degree to be so broken up over.

He avoided Matt successfully for weeks and weeks ...until now. His own effervescent greeting was ignored by the intense brooding demeanour of his captives almost lover.

'So, i'm just going to get to the point...a few days back i talked to Amber in class, she said she saw you talking to Caroline the night of the pageant...'

It's not the lack of question in the 'question' he found accusatory; it was just the tone of the statement...and his stance cold and disrespectful or maybe just knowing. The ripper underneath snarled dangerously, something in his expression must have hardened because he noticed Matt shift the weight of the backpack he was carrying to the other shoulder uneasily but not uneasy enough to back down. The tough guy act suited him...he let loose an involuntary quirk of his mouth as a friendly shrug. Yes, He could have just told him to the truth about the short encounter he had with his girlfriend that fateful night.

But the fear of relighting extinguished hope in the questioning eyes of Matt Donovan was far more dangerous than compelling him to stop asking questions about Caroline and accept her disappearance wholeheartedly. Of course he made sure no one was present in the hallway to see his little lie building exercise.

The darker side of him toys with the idea of tormenting Matt with the truth about his sweetheart and then compelling him to forget just as he lunged at him with disbelief. Matt's smile of acceptance as he believed the lie being fed to him made all the difference to his ripper's dark mood, the reassuring warmth felt like a pat on the back.

As he turns around and walks off to the next period he thinks he likes the jock and thinks they can be great friends ...some day.

* * *

Caroline

He's back on the chair after a few days and she lets the darkness hide any vestiges of surprise from her face, but he notices anyway because she sees the rise of an eyebrow in response. It should bother Caroline that she understood his body language so well because he was anything but expressive; the little glimpse of emotion now and then reminded her that he did have a rational side to him. The better side of his monster she had come to co-exist with so far.

But tonight she was a contradiction, every moral she had determined not to overshadow while in captivity was going to be tested tonight. It had to be or she was convinced that her existence would last an eternity in the forsaken tower. She had time to talk herself out of it and holy hell she had almost buckled under the fear of breaking from their well rehearsed routine.

She had decided on the penultimate risk and she was giving it all or nothing.

'How's Elena?...' Caroline wasn't sure who the question surprised more, the silent demeanour gave away almost everything of his internal turmoil, she tells him it's alright, they didn't have to talk about it tonight and descends from her bed like a dream underwater.

He's disturbed by the change in her and she is pleased to have that effect on him finally.

Before he can warn her, she tells him she understands his urge to keep her locked up; a floundering and unwilling prey is only as tasty as an untouchable object of desire. And when the object of desire yields ...it loses the desirability, there was only one thing left to do. Caroline refused to think that her theory might be a concoction of insomnia and isolation only equalling desperation. Maybe it was desperation but after five months of captivity and two savage attacks desperations was about all she had left in her arsenal.

He's perfectly still on his chair when she hesitantly kneels in front of him taking a shuddering breath. The vampire's eyes tread warily over her form trying to estimate the possibility of tricks, she's wearing one of his shirts as a peace offering and he takes one of her beckoning hand silently in acknowledgement to it.

'Trust me' She persists gently enough. She swallows the tremor in her voice when their eyes connect briefly, his hidden menace dawning like a slow reality. And then the red monster in his eyes is wide awake, she shudders as his eyes give an edge of a smile in return as a testament to his eagerness.

His harshness as he drags her to him and rips open the shirt doesn't affect her as she imagined it would, because it was either her inhibitions that would win or lose her the fight. Fear could not be part of the equation this time.

* * *

After the first five bites pain had become an almost hazy sensation. The rest of the night felt like a violently erotic, wet dream where she was drenched in her own blood slowly losing grip on both reality and life. His touch even though forceful was at time gentle and un offensively intimate without being intimate, only his teeth marked her body.

He was systematic, starting from lower extremities slowly making his way up, making sure she didn't lose too much blood too fast. Her nails dug into his back and shoulders holding on for dear life as his fangs sunk into her skin with little care, she doubted he felt her little take on violence. After all she had submitted to this.

At the end when the monster hovered over her lips with her life dripping from his fangs she made a final desperate plea as her body seemed to drift to that space between life and death.

' Stefan...i-i don't want to die...'

The pause was longest before a metallic tang exploded in her mouth as his lips descended on hers and her soundless scream echoed only in her mind before she closed her eyes to the world.

* * *

He doesn't come back for four weeks this time. The bites on her body have almost healed but not quite and Caroline feels a morbid sense of achievement. She has submitted to finality of fate without the fear. It worried her that he might not come back and leave her in the tower to die, maybe her plea as she was fading out failed her releasing only utter cowardice in her system, betraying her confidence.

But when she wakes up on the twenty eighth night she finds him sitting on her bed looking off into some unknown distance. There is something pained in his expression and she fights the instinctive urge to squirm away into some corner where his touch won't invade her.

Defeat is evident in his voice as he speaks 'I want to ask you for something but I'm afraid you won't give it...'

She asks him what the hell else does he want from her she's not surrendered already and there is the short guffaw of a humourless laugh before he turns to look at her with serenity radiating across his features. It's a remarkable change, Caroline is unsure whether relief is the appropriate reaction right now.

'Can, you forgive me?...i don't mean now, if we meet again someday, when i come back to Mystic Falls?'

She starts to tell him he isn't making sense but then realises something. He was talking about the future which meant he was letting her go? The question was at the tip of her tongue but she restrained herself from asking for fear her hopes would be cruelly shattered again.

'I'm leaving town tonight Caroline...i want you to know, you really helped me and I'm grateful'

A very submissive part of her wanted to exclaim heartfelt joy and thank him for his decision, but the rational part of her kept silent, she was grateful that he didn't kill her but she felt far from forgiving and he seemed to accept that just as well.

Thank god, because she didn't much feel like giving him a hug now.

* * *

The Vampire

His decision had very little to do with her succumbing to his wishes. Sooner or later she would have succumbed he knew that, but it was what came after that was the hardest part for him.

The part of letting her go, Her bravery shamed the lesser evil part of him in painfully creative ways which only made him feel worse about his task ahead, He had left Damon and Elena a note saying he needed space and would be back when he felt ready. Detailing and admitting nothing of his indiscretions and various misdemeanours all over.

He loved Elena wholeheartedly once but since the dark half had taken over he felt their love dwindling between his secrets and her inability to deal with them and he knew he could not hide his real self any longer now because it was taking him over rapidly, this other personality which wasn't the old Stefan or Ripper. It was something much better and yet much worse then he hoped.

The blonde cheerleader was dressed in her nightclothes from the night he stole her away in. She stood ready for her flight to freedom with a hand extended to him in quite the friendly mistake. He took it and pulled her closer. The slight gasp from her sent shivers of excitement down his spine.

'There's a scar on your shoulder, i wanted to know where you go it...'

Relief flooded her eyes as she touched the shoulder with the scar betraying nothing of her alarm at their closeness, it was a comforting gesture he almost apologized to her.

'I was young, i don't remember but my mom told me it was from a dog attack or something...'

He releases her hand and nods understandingly, restraining from saying out loud that it could have been a vampire because that just sealed her fate in his mind, her polite smile brought a chilling silence to their still forms until he thanked her...

Then he snapped her neck and let her lifeless body fill his arms with regretful peace. Now he can leave knowing she will always be in his tower.

Before you slip into unconsciousness  
I'd like to have another kiss  
Another flashing chance at bliss  
Another kiss, another kiss

The days are bright and filled with pain  
Enclose me in your gentle rain  
The time you ran was too insane  
We'll meet again, we'll meet again

Oh tell me where your freedom lies  
The streets are fields that never die  
Deliver me from reasons why  
You'd rather cry, I'd rather fly

The crystal ship is being filled  
A thousand girls, a thousand thrills  
A million ways to spend your time  
When we get back, I'll drop a line

The End

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone for the incredible amount of support they showed for this fic, i'm grateful to each and every review , they really make my day.

xsinsofglassx: I'm looking forward to writing another Damon/Caroline fic as soon as the plot bunny hits me in the head with a good story. Right now am working on another Dark Stefan and Caroline/tyler – ish story let's see. Btw yes love the doors and everything rock.

And thanks to Vampirebarbie,Lian, Daroline1864, shadowglove,Harley-Jensen, beverlie4055, klausgirl4055,taiyalin,Sparkle85,serial fanatic,LaLa,Zoey,fallenstacieb, Damonlover86,teamstefanbitches,hellzonearth,darkstefan,darolinklaroline all of you who think i'm a good writer, reviews always motivate a writer to do better.

I realise the chapter might have been rushed but i really wanted to finish the story and not leave it on a long hiatus like before. Hope the ending was not too bad, it's dark but i just didn't see it playing out any other way that was plausible.


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